


Two-Point Conversion

by intrajanelle



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Asexual Keith (Voltron), Cameo Firefighter slash Driver's Ed Instructor slash total babe Takashi Shirogane, Childhood Friends, Footballplayer!Hunk, Getting Together, M/M, Misunderstandings, Underage Drinking, cheerleader!lance, past Hunk/Shay - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 23:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17886956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intrajanelle/pseuds/intrajanelle
Summary: “Whatever. Being a cheerleader is hard work. It isn’t all glitter and pom poms and ‘flips and stuff’ I won’t have you sullying the name of my chosen sport. That’s right. I said it. Sport. Cheerleading takes athleticism.” Lance flung his hands out in front of him.“I wasn’t saying it didn’t,” Keith said, tapping his fingers against his notepad. “Anyways, you’ve been spending way more time staring at Hunk Garrett than watching where you’re flipping this past week.”Or: Hunk plays football. Lance is weak.





	Two-Point Conversion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [annaincognita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annaincognita/gifts).



> this was partially inspired by this fanart (http://tofuloo.tumblr.com/post/177117573908), the time lance ribbon-danced from the ceiling in an ice skating performance in literal canon, and my sudden understanding of how football works at the age of twenty five. FYI: lance’s full name in this is Leandro Solà Ordóñez. this name and the reasons lance keeps it a secret are a personal headcanon of the person i wrote this fic for. it has nothing to do with that leakira thing i don't really get what that is.
> 
> i hope y’all enjoy this! :)

The student body of Garrison Prep was small but ruthless. There were four hundred kids in Lance’s graduating class and almost all of them were assholes. They had their reasons. Garrison Prep was an elite, private, expensive place to send children that parents were certain were going to make something of themselves. It was where rich people sent their doctors, lawyers, and politicians of the family. Lance was a scholarship student.

****

Lance was a scholarship student and Vice Captain of the cheerleading team. Which meant he had to flaunt, pose, and strut his way through years worth of withering looks and whispers as if it was all water off a duck’s back. Except Lance was a coiffed bisexual duck and the water was Fiji water.

****

He could never show weakness or every student in a 50-yard radius would sniff it out, take hold of each end of his wound and tear it wider.

****

Which was why he was wrapping his knee in the privacy of the women’s locker room.

****

Three years ago, when he’d been a skinny, anxious freshman, he’d changed out for cheerleading practice in the men’s bathroom on the other side of school for two weeks before his upperclassmen caught him. Allura, then a sophomore, but still his captain, had cornered him after school and herded him into the women’s locker room. He’d walked in on his team, all well on their way to naked, and had cowered in a private shower stall, unable to meet anyone’s eye.

****

After practice Allura explained that many of the cheerleader’s were either gay, trans, both, or some kind of queer, and that this locker room was a safe haven for their team. They trusted him and they wanted him there.

****

These days even Shay, captain of the football team, and a couple other shier football players changed out with the cheerleaders. Lance didn’t blame them, they could all hear the football team’s locker room from across the gym. It seemed like more shouting and slapping than bathing went on in there. Lance didn’t know how Hunk could stand it.

****

Someone cleared their throat. Speaking of Hunk.

****

“I thought you said your knee was better,” Hunk said.

****

“It is,” Lance said, pulling his pants down over his ace bandages.

****

“I see, so that’s why you’re wrapping it in an empty locker room. You’re just casually wrapping a perfectly healthy knee without the knowledge of your team.”

****

“Correct,” Lance said. “Hunk, my dude, you’re definitely gonna get into Harvard with those excellent observation skills.”

****

Hunk slowly raised an eyebrow. It was after practice and school, so he wasn’t wearing his uniform or his gym shorts. He was wearing loose sweatpants, slides, and a tank top with a lion on it. His hair was wet and curling at the ends, the yellow bandana he wore during practice was around his neck instead of his head.

****

Lance had been friends with Hunk since kindergarten, but right now he felt a little light headed just looking at him. He hadn’t really talked to Hunk since last Friday. His knee throbbed in time with his heart.

****

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Hunk asked, as if he’d read Lance’s mind.

****

Or maybe he’d read Lance’s posture, his expression, his hands. Lance’s words may have conveyed aloofness but he’d been anything but calm around Hunk for nearly a week now.

****

“I’m not,” Lance said.

****

“Stop lying to me,” Hunk said. Hunk rarely raised his voice, he didn’t yell unless he was overexcited. He was a big, brawny football player and he was acutely aware of his size, so he was usually friendly, cheerful, overly polite. He growled the words at Lance, they sunk to the bottom of Lance’s stomach.

****

“We’ve been friends for a decade,” Hunk added, gentler, “I know when something’s wrong. And I know I did something wrong. But I can’t fix it unless you tell me.”

****

Lance was quiet. Lance was never quiet. Lance talked through movies and entire six hour plane rides and he talked when he was sleeping and in class. He loved talking. But for some reason, he couldn’t find the words. It felt like he was choking.

****

Hunk sighed. His posture loosened. He reached out to help Lance stand.

****

“Do you need a ride home?”

****

+

****

The next day at practice Lance performed a flawless basket toss. Allura, acting as base today, smiled up at him. He was perched above them, four strong cheerleader’s hoisting him up by the ankles.

****

“Excellent work, Lance! Think you can handle three of these in a performance?”

****

Lance’s knee protested even though he was holding it straight. He’d taken the bandages off for practice, but thankfully it wasn’t red or swollen. When he told Allura three basket tosses with chairs in-between was no problem it didn’t feel like much of a lie.

****

After twenty more minutes of aimless stunt practice, Allura called a water break and the team ambled toward the benches.

****

Unfortunately, James Griffin, reserve Quarterback and full-time douchebag was sucking on an orange peel near their water cooler.

****

“Yo, Ordóñez, how’s it feel getting felt up by twenty hot girls?”

****

“Yo, Griffin, how’s it feel being on the sidelines?”

****

Griffin’s lips curled up like his orange had spontaneously become a lemon. He threw his peel on the ground, at least it was decomposable, and stomped over to where Lance was sipping his Gatorade.

****

“Ordóñez, I swear on Tom Brady’s soul I’m gonna—”

****

“You’re gonna what, Griffin?” Shay interrupted. She was standing with her helmet under an arm, her long braids cascading over a shoulder. Her practice pinnie was bright red, making her look like a beautiful, intimidating, stop sign.

****

“Well, Griffin?” she prodded when Griffin remained silent.

****

“Just telling Ordóñez that he’s looking good out there,” Griffin said. “Nice flips.”

****

“Flirt on your own time, Griffin,” Shay said. “Back to practice.”

****

Griffin flushed bright red. He shoved his helmet on and shouldered past all of them.

****

“You can’t outrun gay thoughts!” Lance called after him.

****

“Lance,” Allura said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

****

“I’m sorry about Griffin,” Shay said. “I’ll talk with him after practice.”

****

Lance looked over both of them. Both of their team captains. When Lance had started Garrison Prep he’d expected to spend four years in the closet, thoroughly repressed and either bullied or ignored. With only Hunk for company. But Allura and Shay had spent the last four years making their teams, if not the whole school, more tolerant. The cheerleading team was super queer. The football team was super loud and mostly straight but they weren’t the kind of loud straight football players who were so seeped in toxic masculinity that they were shoving kids in lockers.

****

For this, Lance was grateful and also sad. Because next year Allura and Shay would be gone and it would be him and Hunk against the world.

****

And he couldn’t even look Hunk in the eye.

****

Something about his unresponsiveness must have set off alarms in Allura’s brain because she shoved him into a seat on the bleachers, with his bad knee propped up, Shay’s letterman jacket across his shoulders, two oranges and a Gatorade at his side. With strict orders to take it easy for the remainder of practice.

****

Lance unpeeled both oranges and ate them slice by slice, watching Hunk catch Shay’s passes in receiving drills over and over. When the goth kid plopped down beside him, Lance nearly screamed.

****

“Who are you?” Lance demanded. He looked familiar.

****

“Keith Kogane,” the guy answered. He was wearing a leather jacket, fingerless leather gloves, and his black nail polish was peeling all over the place. He had a little Moleskine notepad in his hand and a pen behind his ear.

****

“Aren’t you in the anime club?”

****

“This school doesn’t have an anime club. I’m in the newspaper club.”

****

“Do you need something?” Lance said, gesturing to the empty bleachers, trying to give the guy a hint that he could sit anywhere and it didn’t have to be right next to him.

****

“You’re a cheerleader right?”

****

Lance looked down at his Garrison Prep Cheerleading t-shirt and then back at Keith. Acting coy wouldn’t win this kid any points.

****

“Right. I was wondering if I could interview you.”

****

“For the anime club?”

****

“For the _school newspaper_.”

****

“Why?”

****

The guy sighed. He ran a hand through his disturbingly attractive mullet.

****

“The newspaper won’t let me write any more conspiracy articles until I write something ‘relevant to the school’s interests’ and you’re the school’s first male cheerleader. So if you could just tell me about your flips and stuff I’ll be on my way.”

****

“Listen here Kevin—”

****

“Keith.”

****

“Whatever. Being a cheerleader is hard work. It isn’t all glitter and pom poms and ‘flips and stuff’ I won’t have you sullying the name of my chosen sport. That’s right. I said it. Sport. Cheerleading takes _athleticism_.” Lance flung his hands out in front of him.

****

“I wasn’t saying it didn’t,” Keith said, tapping his fingers against his notepad. “Anyways, you’ve been spending way more time staring at Hunk Garrett than watching where you’re flipping this past week.”

****

Lance was a dramatic person by nature. Which is why when even mullet-Keith who he’d maybe spoken to twice before in his entire high school career, minus that one time they’d definitely had a group project together and Keith had contributed nothing but his name, called him out on his behavior this past week he grabbed Keith by the shoulders and shoved him down. Now they were both crouched low in the bleachers, out of sight of the field.

****

“What are you doing,” Keith asked tonelessly.

****

“How do you know I’ve been watching Hunk?”

****

“I have eyes,” Keith said.

****

“Who have you told?” Lance said.

****

“You,” Keith said. “And apparently _you_ didn’t even know. Interesting.”

****

“No, not interesting, if you write about this in the school newspaper I will end you,” Lance promised.

****

“I won’t,” Keith said, “Just tell me about your cheerleading stuff and I’ll be on my way.”

****

“Fine,” Lance said. “Practice is almost over. Meet by the gym entrance in an hour.”

****

“Lance?”

****

Lance whipped his head up. Sweat dripped down Hunk’s forehead sticking his hair to his skin. He was slightly out of breath, like he’d started running from the endzone and run all the way up the bleachers instead of down the field.

****

“Uh, hey there Keith,” Hunk said.

****

“Garrett,” Keith acknowledged.

****

“Are you feeling better?” Hunk asked Lance. His eyes darted from Lance to Keith to Lance. They were both sitting on the floor of the bleachers, invisible from the field, crouched over a small notepad like they were conspiring a murder. No wonder Hunk looked confused. “Shay told me what happened. Do you want me to beat up Griffin?”

****

“No no no,” Lance said, standing and straightening his shirt. He pushed his arms through the sleeves of Shay’s letterman jacket so it wouldn’t fall. “I handled him. Don’t let his needless drama break apart your football team bond.”

****

“If you’re sure,” Hunk said, frowning. “Then what are you two doing up here?”

****

“Nothing!” Lance said, loudly, for some reason. “Let’s go back to practice, I can’t slack off just because Griffin is the human embodiment of a toilet plunger. Bye Keith!”

****

“One hour, Ordóñez,” Keith called after him. “Don’t forget!”

****

Lance paused, Keith had actually pronounced his last name right. That was unusual at Garrison Prep. Despite his lovely found family of queer friends of color, so many white kids at school had butchered his name over the years that he rarely told anyone his real first name anymore. At school, only Hunk and Allura knew Lance was just a nickname he’d insisted on since he realized a correctly rolled R was a rarity in these parts.

****

Hunk, his hand on Lance’s arm, paused with him. His eyes were slightly wide, he’d heard it too.

****

“I’ll be there mullet!” Lance called back, before ushering Hunk onto the field.

****

Maybe he should keep Keith around after all. They could use a mascot.

****

+

****

Hunk and Shay had dated from the first week of Freshman year, up until a week before their Junior year started. Hunk still wouldn’t talk to Lance about it. At first Lance had assumed they were just on a break. They went on a brief hiatus during final exams their Freshman year, because Hunk was stressed about losing his scholarship and Shay was a Sophomore, less stressed, and never needed to study anyways because she was the smartest person in her graduating class.

****

When they’d gotten back together Lance had spent the rest of the summer third-wheeling all of their dates and staunchly flirting with Nyma. Then flirting with Rolo. Then flirting with no one when he realized Nyma and Rolo were either trying to cheat on each other with him, or trying to lure him into a threesome that he wasn’t mentally prepared for.

****

He spent half of his Sophomore year infatuated with his driver’s ed instructor slash firefighter, Takashi Shirogane. Then the other half of his Sophomore year rebounding by flirting with almost the entire football team once he realized Shiro was happily married to Lance’s Calculus TA, Adam Shirogane. He really should have seen that one coming.

****

Last summer he’d spent more and more time with just Hunk. Shay was always working, or practicing, or hanging with her friends. At the time, Lance hadn’t thought much of it because he was so excited to have alone time with Hunk. When they were kids they spent days on end together, rarely parting for more than sleep, and despite how much Lance loved Shay, he missed having Hunk to himself. So he hadn’t complained. He hadn’t asked questions. And when school started again in the fall, Hunk was single and it was as if Lance had only read every other page of a book. He had no idea where Hunk and Shay had fallen apart.

****

+

****

After practice Lance gave Hunk the slip and met Keith outside the locker rooms. Keith was leaning against a staircase, chewing a pen. When he saw Lance he collected his backpack, an ancient Jansport bag covered in patches, and started walking towards the exit.

****

Keith led him back to a bench by the school courtyard. Then he took out a tape recorder and a larger notebook.

****

“Okay, so, what got you into cheerleading?” he asked, straight to business.

****

“Hold on, shouldn’t you, like, tell me what the article is gonna be about? Read me my rights? Don’t I get to say ‘on the record’ and _then_ you turn the recorder on?”

****

“Again,” Keith said, painstakingly, “this is for the school newspaper. This isn’t the New York Times. I could probably make half of this shit up and no one would care because no one would even read it.”

****

“Then why don’t you?” Lance asked.

****

“Because I want to go to NYU for journalism and if I don’t have a kickass portfolio they’re never gonna look twice at me,” Keith answered. “Now, on the record, what got you into cheerleading?”

****

What got Lance into cheerleading was the dozen sports that came before it. He started with soccer in first grade. Lance’s and Hunk’s parents used to trade who would take the kids to soccer practice. Hunk’s mom would always pack the best snacks and after they’d get ice cream or candy bars and wander around town covered in grass and dirt.

****

Then Lance got tired of soccer and moved on to baseball. He started out as pitcher, then first base, then tried being an outfielder and a pinch hitter. But inevitably the swell of boredom overcame him. Just standing in the outfield for hours on end, waiting for the ball to get hit his way was like torture for his brain. Sometimes he’d stand there playing one verse from a song over and over and over in his head and then he’d miss an easy out. Or come close to getting hit by a flyball.

****

So next came ice hockey, pretty quickly followed by figure skating. Because by then Lance was thirteen and the pimples in his T-zone were not pleased by the hockey face mask rubbing his oils and sweat and concealer into his pores for hours on end. And he liked the shiny costumes the figure skaters wore, better than the pads upon pads they strapped on for ice hockey. But his figure skating dreams were trampled when he realized falling involved his bare hands coming into dangerous proximity to sharp blades.

****

He did gymnastics, tennis, lacrosse. Each for a month. And then football.

****

By then Hunk had transitioned to football. And they always made a good team. Hunk was a wide receiver, a position he’d had to fight to earn. Usually, boys his size got shoehorned into being tight ends or offensive lineman. Basically anything that involved mowing someone to the ground. But Hunk had excellent hand-eye coordination, he was quick on his feet, he always seemed to know where the ball was gonna be even if the rest of the line messed up a play. He was the obvious choice for wide receiver.

****

And Lance, with his size and maneuverability, was a great choice for quarterback. They actually made an incredible pair. Lance was used to throwing to Hunk, after years of throwing baseballs and frisbees and snacks and snowballs. Whenever Hunk caught one of his passes his face would light up. When he caught a touchdown, he’d run to Lance and spin him around the endzone. Lance felt, abruptly, like he belonged somewhere.

****

This was all before high school, of course.

****

In high school football tryouts Lance was half the size of most of the players. At fourteen and one of the youngest in his grade, he was also physically short and lanky. He would sprout up eventually, gangly limbs growing longer and ganglier until they coalesced into something less toothpick and more human. But during freshman football tryouts he was as dense as a paper airplane and he didn’t make the cut.

****

Hunk tried to console him with food, as he always did. He brought Lance’s favorite desserts every day for two weeks. He coaxed Lance to the mall, to the movies, into brief but heated wrestling matches. He’d stay up with him to do their homework after football practice. If they stayed up late enough and it was a clear night sometimes they’d go out and watch the stars. Then, Hunk revealed that he’d sent Lance’s gymnastics audition tapes to the cheerleading team and they were willing to give him a late tryout.

****

Lance had never held a pom pom. He’d never chanted a school chant, while smiling, and flipping through the air, all the while making sure his uniform and makeup were pristine. But the idea of it was intriguing enough to pursue.

****

He made the Varsity team with no trouble at all.

****

+

****

“So,” Keith said, demonstrably turning the tape off and sliding it into his backpack. “Where in all of this, did you fall in love with Garrett?”

****

Lance flailed. He straddled the bench seat and dug his hands into the molded plastic.

****

“Love? I don’t love Hunk. I mean, I do, he’s my best friend. I love him like a broth— best buddy, of seventeen years, childhood friend, neighbor. That’s how I love him. Not romantic love, like you’re saying. That would be stupid.”

****

“I don’t think it would be stupid.” Keith shrugged. “Isn’t that what everyone wants? To fall in love with someone that knows them like that?”

****

Lance narrowed his eyes and surveyed Keith shrewdly.

****

“Is that what you want?” Lance asked.

****

“I’m not really interested in that kind of thing.”

****

“Love?”

****

“Love, sex, dating,” Keith said, tapping his fingers along with his list. “I’m asexual and aromantic. Maybe someday though. If I trusted someone and we knew what we each expected of each other. Having a partner could be kinda nice.”

****

Lance was quiet for a moment. All of his friends were friends with Shay too. Everyone that knew Hunk and knew Lance, thought that Hunk would marry Shay and one day Lance would be their best man.

****

“I don’t want,” Lance swallowed. “I don’t ever want to be the reason he’s sad. He’s so selfless. If I told him to quit football he’d do it, if I told him to stop baking he’d do it, if I told him to break up with his girlfriend…”

****

Keith watched him with a raised eyebrow. He slowly set his pencil down from where he’d been fiddling with it.

****

“Ordóñez, I don’t think you’re giving Garrett enough credit. If he didn’t want to do something he wouldn’t, he’s not a pushover. He’s just nice.”

****

Lance glared up at him.

****

“Okay, maybe he’s too nice, but he wouldn’t just do anything you wanted.” Keith paused. “I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit either. I can’t imagine you asking him to do something he really didn’t want to do.”

****

Lance spent a couple minutes changing his position on the bench. He sat facing Keith, then sat sideways again. He tried sitting with his legs crossed and his legs straight across the seat. It helped him process Keith's words.

****

“You say my name right,” Lance said, without preamble.

****

“Oh, yeah, I guess so.”

****

“Do you speak Spanish?”

****

“I live with my brother and his husband. His husband is hispanic and teaching me Spanish.” Keith waved his hand vaguely. “So I can talk with his family during holidays and stuff.”

****

“Okay, I’m not sure why I’m telling you this Keith Kogane. But if you tell anyone I will murder you and frame your brother.”

****

Keith smiled a little, like he’d heard something funny and not a serious threat to his well being. Then gestured for Lance to continue.

****

“Lance is just a nickname. My real name is Leandro Solà Ordóñez. There’s no need to call me Leandro but,” Lance swept his hands in the air, at a loss.

****

“Thanks for telling me,” Keith said.

****

“Yeah,” Lance said. He felt homesick all of a sudden. Garrison Prep was an hour’s bus ride away from his home and sometimes spending even a few minutes longer there than necessary made him ache.

****

+

****

Hunk was waiting for him in the parking lot. He was leaning against his beat-up yellow Jeep Wrangler. It was a chilly October evening so he was wearing his dad’s leather jacket over his sweats. Keith, who waved politely at Hunk, swatted Lance and shot him a shit-eating smirk before crossing to the other side of the lot towards his own car.

****

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” Lance said once he was within earshot.

****

Hunk shrugged. “It wasn’t that long. I didn’t want you to have to take the bus.”

****

As soon as they were in the jeep, Hunk offered Lance some of his homemade raisin scones. They chatted idly about school and practice, until they got on the highway. The music was playing low. Usually Lance would be gesticulating wildly, reenacting Griffin’s assholery or something that had happened in class. But he felt the words getting stuck in his throat. If there was ever silence between him and Hunk it was always a comfortable worn thing. Now it felt like he was in a taxi, with a divider between them.

****

“So,” Hunk said, his voice cracking through Lance’s anxious haze. “What were you and Keith up to?”

****

“Nothing!” Lance insisted, perhaps too quickly.

****

Hunk shot him a look, eyebrows raised, even though Hunk was usually a stickler for keeping his eyes on the road.

****

“Nothing, he’s just writing an article. For the school newspaper. About me.” Lance felt his face heating inexplicably. “We’re meeting again this weekend to talk about it.”

****

_To talk about you_ , Lance didn’t say.

****

“Oh, where are you meeting?” Hunk asked. His voice oddly high, like when he was lying about something. But he was asking a question.

****

Lance felt like he was watching a movie with the wrong subtitles.

****

“His house probably. He wants me to meet his brother. For some reason.”

****

“You’re meeting his family?”

****

“Yeah, I mean, we’re just hanging out there? But they’ll be there? Didn’t sound like a big deal,” Lance explained.

****

It was quiet for a little longer, Lance watched the sparse foliage from his passenger window. Halloween was coming up, but he didn’t even feel excited. Every time he started to feel something other than melancholy he remembered last week and what Hunk had said and the suddenness of warm beer spilling onto his jeans

****

“Well, I hope you both have a nice date— day together.” Hunk was rubbing the back of his neck, his face looked hot.

****

Hunk had been weird all week too, even though Lance was sure he didn’t know Lance had overheard him and Allura. Or maybe he did. Maybe this whole week he’d been hovering around Lance because he was waiting for an apology. Lance didn’t know what to do. Because if Hunk knew and Lance brought it up, he’d have to apologize for something he didn’t feel was his fault. And if Hunk brought it up, mad that Lance hadn’t apologized on his own, well, Lance actually couldn’t picture Hunk doing that. But the thought left him cold.

****

Usually Hunk was the surest thing in Lance’s life and not being able to talk to him was slowly crushing Lance from the inside out.

****

“Lance?” Hunk prompted.

****

Lance looked up and they were at Lance’s house. Hunk was frowning at him, his hand hovering over his shoulder. Normally Hunk would have grabbed his shoulder and thrown an arm around it or pulled him into a hug. They’d never been stingy with physical affection. Lance watched Hunk pull his hand away.

****

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Hunk asked. “You know you can talk to me right? Even if its— just. About anything. You can talk to me.”

****

“Yeah, I know,” Lance assured him. “Thanks for the ride.”

****

He unfolded himself from the car, exploding onto the pavement like a jack in the box. Extricating himself from the Wrangler was always more violent than he expected. As he walked up the path towards his front door, Hunk called after him.

****

“Do you want to go to the movies this weekend?” Hunk asked. His voice was creeping higher again. “I don’t know when you’re gonna be with Keith, but, I thought. We haven’t had a chance to hang out for awhile. We can do dinner and then see that new romcom you were talking about.”

****

If Lance said no Hunk would know something was wrong. He plastered on a smile and a jaunty wave.

****

“Sure, buddy,” he said. “I’ll text you.”

****

+

****

Keith’s house was twenty minutes from Lance’s, closer to the dirt biking trails by the reserve because apparently Keith, Keith’s mom and dad, and Keith’s brother were all outdoors enthusiasts. They dirt-biked and went on months long hiking expeditions, they jumped from planes and camped their way up and down the coast. They probably ate more squirrels than Bear Grylls.

****

Oh, and Keith’s brother was Takashi Shirogane.

****

Keith laughed at Lance once they were holed up in Keith’s room with snacks and a liter of Pepsi.

****

“Your face,” Keith said, tears in the corners of his eyes, “was priceless. I wish I’d had my phone.”

****

Shiro had answered the door when Lance arrived, wearing his firefighter uniform. Which was honestly one of Lance’s top 5 fantasies of all time, come to life. Not that he would ever tell Keith that, not even under penalty of death.

****

Lance shoved Keith over and stole his Cheetos which nearly incited an all-out war. Luckily, Adam, who apparently lived in the home’s basement apartment with Shiro, stuck his head in the door and told Keith to behave in Spanish. Which distracted Lance enough to extricate himself from trying to snap Keith in half.

****

Finally they settled on watching the Lord of the Rings.

****

“So,” Keith said, right as Gandalf was telling Frodo to leave the Shire, “have you talked to Hunk?”

****

“Yes,” Lance said automatically. When Keith eyed him shrewdly, Lance amended, “No, but we have plans to. We’re going to the movies tonight.”

****

“The movies? Together? On a Saturday night? Are you sure you aren’t dating already?”

****

“Yes,” Lance said. He grabbed a handful of Doritos and shoved them in his face. “We do shit like that all the time. We’re best friends.”

****

“You guys haven’t really been acting like it this week, you’ve been weird,” Keith said.

****

Lance didn’t respond. He chewed with his mouth closed for once and stared at the TV. Gandalf could have stabbed Frodo through the chest and stolen the Ring and Lance wouldn’t have noticed. His eyes were unfocused.

****

Keith shook his shoulder.

****

“See this is what I’m talking about. You’ve been quiet and stare-y and _weird_.”

****

Keith was watching Lance with his nose scrunched up, his legs were crossed and his hands were on his knees. He looked concerned, which was a strange look for him.

****

“Did something happen to you? At that party last week?” Keith asked. “Did anyone…”

****

Keith trailed off, biting his lip.

****

“I’m fine!” Lance yelped. “Nothing happened. I’m cool. I just…” he ran a hand through his sweaty hair, “I overheard Hunk and Allura talking about something. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

****

“What, when?”

****

“Are those two questions?”

****

“Shut up, Lance. Just, what happened?”

****

+

****

“Don’t turn down Whitney, what are you _doing_?” Lance complained.

****

“Dude, we’re almost there,” Hunk said.

****

They were in the Wrangler, cruising down the street to a house party at Nyma’s, _no_ Slav’s, _no_ Kuron’s— at Lance couldn’t remember whose house. Lance was already drunk.

****

“We need to set some ground rules for the party,” Hunk said.

****

“Huh, why?” Lance asked. He was clinging to Hunk’s free arm, head pillowed on his shoulder, half out of his seat. He did have his seatbelt on, of course, Hunk would have silently judged him if he didn’t. “You won the game! You caught the winning touchdown! No rules need apply!”

****

Hunk laughed. “Okay, but I’m your DD. Some rules apply. Also you’ve already had three shots of your sister’s shitty vodka. So I think we should discuss a drink limit, unless you want a reenactment of Summer Camp 2016.”

****

“I didn’t know how to hold my liquor then, first of all,” Lance said. “Second of all the shots were all in one cup, so, technically that was one drink.”

****

“Two more drinks tonight and no mystery punch,” Hunk said. He patted the dash of the Wrangler respectfully. “My baby can’t handle anymore puke, she’s had enough.”

****

Lance went to argue but he remembered two summers ago and how many days it took to hose down and scrub the Wrangler. He relented. It was getting cold and cold car washing wouldn’t help Lance’s dry winter skin.

****

“Also, here,” Hunk said. He shoved a bottle of water and an apple muffin at Lance from somewhere in the depths of the glove compartment. “Pregame responsibly.”

****

Lance reluctantly took a bite of the apple muffin. It was delicious.

****

Inevitably Lance lost Hunk to the throng of classmates. Everyone had come out to congratulate the Garrison Paladin’s on their win. And also to eat Hunk’s apple muffins, which unbeknownst to Lance there had been a whole tray of in Hunk’s backseat. They were gone within five minutes of putting them on the snack table.

****

It turned out to be Lotor’s house they were at. Which, gross, but Lotor’s friends were all hot seniors. So Lance spent some time flirting by the pool with a couple girls who looked like they could eat him alive, before wandering inside for more alcohol.

****

He collapsed on the stairs by the kitchen for a moment to catch his breath. The world was spinning. Thankfully it was quieter here, away from the crowd in the living room and around the pool. It was so quiet that Lance could hear Hunk’s voice drifting toward him from nearby.

****

“It was amicable, Allura,” Hunk said. “Shay and I are fine.

****

“But why—” Allura was saying, something, Lance hadn’t known she was there. But it made sense. She was head cheerleader. She was his captain. Lance wondered how mad she would be if she knew he’d twisted his knee that night because he was busy watching Hunk catch that last pass. She’d probably eviscerate him.

****

“So it's because of Lance?” Allura said. Her voice was sharp, it cut through Lance’s fatigue like a blade.

****

“No, I mean, it's not not because of him,” Hunk said. “I just told her how I felt. I didn’t want to stay her boyfriend if I wasn’t in it one hundred percent. And I wasn’t.”

****

“Have you told him? Or are you just sitting around, driving him to parties and baking him muffins and pretending like everything is the same?”

****

There was a stark silence from the kitchen, the absence of sound rang in Lance’s head in time with his heartbeat.

****

“You need to tell him Hunk,” Allura said. “He deserves to know.”

****

Lance stood abruptly, but he hadn’t realized someone was turning the corner. He knocked the beer right out of Lotor’s hand. It poured down Lance’s jeans, pooling by his feet.

****

“Hey! Watch where you’re going you little—” Lotor went to grab him by the hair, with his long sharp nails.

****

Before they could sink into Lance’s scalp someone snatched Lotor by the wrist.

****

“It was an accident, man,” Hunk said. “He’s sorry.”

****

Allura was standing just behind Hunk, in the door of the kitchen, watching Lotor with narrowed eyes.

****

“Then he should apologize,” Lotor said, slurring his words into a growl. “He’s an embarrassment.”

****

“He’s drunk. And so are you,” Hunk said. He dropped Lotor’s hand and turned to steer Lance towards the door. “C’mon man, let’s get you home.”

****

Lance remembered the rest of the night in snatches. Hunk’s yellow jeep, pressing his face into the cold frosted window, Hunk leading him into his house, peeling his shoes off, pulling Lance’s blankets over his shoulders. He couldn’t remember much else. But he could remember the way Hunk and Allura had sounded in the kitchen that night and the stark realization that Hunk and Shay’s break up had somehow been his fault.

****

+

****

“Okay. Wait.” Keith waved his hands in front of Lance’s face, directing his attention away from where he’d been staring at a wall. “You really left that conversation thinking it was your fault? Really? You didn’t _do_ anything.”

****

“I know, but I’ve been racking my brain and I can’t come up with another answer,” Lance said. “Maybe I monopolized him this summer. Maybe I should have made sure he spent more time with her.”

****

“It was his girlfriend, that should have been his responsibility,” Keith said. “There has to be another explanation. You have to talk to him about this.”

****

“That’s terrible advice, you’re terrible at this,” Lance said, flopping on to his side. He could feel the snacks being crushed into cheese powder under his weight and he didn’t even care.

****

“Are you always this emo?” Keith asked, flicking an M&M at his head.

****

“Yes, just normally in the privacy of my own room.”

****

“I may not know you and Hunk very well and I may just be an outside observer and I may only have your biased interpretation of what happened at the party and—”

****

“Skip to the good part, Keef.”

****

“It sounds to me like Hunk likes you.”

****

“Of course he does? He’s my best friend.” Lance flopped onto his back to watch Keith’s eyebrows writhe across his forehead.

****

“No— That’s not— Why are you—” Keith scrubbed his hair with his hands. “Why are so bad at this?”

****

“What?”

****

“You’re impossible. Hunk _like_ likes you. He has a gross, middle-school level, leaving you love letters, gazing at you across the football field crush on you. You absolute moron.”

****

“No he doesn’t.” Lance shook his head.  

****

“He won a football game then didn’t drink at the party for his own team so that he could drive you home. He baked you muffins,” Keith said.

****

“He bakes me muffins all the time,” Lance said.

****

Keith stared at him.

****

“He loves to bake!”

****

Keith raised a single eyebrow.

****

Lance, who had never had to entertain the possibility that his lifelong crush on his best friend would be reciprocated, suddenly realized he was spending the evening going to dinner and a movie with said crush. He slapped his hands on his face in a close approximation to Munch’s _Scream_.

****

“I haven’t cleansed in days.” Lance groaned.

****

+

****

Several hours later Lance met Hunk at their local fast food establishment of choice. He had spent the afternoon in Adam’s bathroom while Adam slathered his face in Noxzema and Keith stood off to the side eating all of their Cheetos.

****

He was wearing his second best shirt. Not his first best, because Hunk was with him at Forever 21 when he spent over $30 on it and he would know something was amiss. He had conditioned and styled his hair, cleansed, toned, and moisturized his face, and had even coaxed Adam into painting his nails a sparkly navy blue.

****

He thought he looked pretty nice. And then he saw Hunk.

****

Hunk usually had a bandana or sweat band pushing his bangs off his face. But he’d left them tousled on top of his head. He was wearing his dad’s old leather jacket and it strained against his recently bulked up shoulders, he looked like he could carry Lance in his arms without breaking a sweat.

****

“You look really nice,” Hunk was saying, when Lance came back to himself.

****

“Nice is— something you also look,” Lance said. He felt like his brain was melting.

****

Hunk just smiled at him. “Let’s get some food in you, huh, buddy?”

****

He steered Lance towards their favorite table and ordered their usual. Then he launched into what was probably a rousing tale of fixing his Jeep’s latest mechanical failure. But all Lance could think about was how nice Hunk looked and how badly he wanted this to be a date.

****

“So, how was Keith?” Hunk asked.

****

“Huh?”

****

“Your day. With Keith. At his house.” Hunk elaborated.

****

“Oh, yeah, it was great. We watched Lord of the Rings and his brother-in-law painted my nails.” Lance held up his nails for Hunk’s inspection, Hunk was appropriately impressed. “Oh. And did you know Keith’s brother is Takashi Shirogane?”

****

Hunk nearly spat out a mouthful of Pepsi.

****

“Driver’s Ed Instructor Takashi Shirogane? Your first heartbreak Takashi Shirogane?”

****

Lance nodded solemnly.

****

“He answered the door in his firefighter uniform. I nearly died.”

****

Usually Hunk would not spare a moment to mercilessly rib Lance for embarrassing himself in front of a hot dude. But now he just looked sort of resigned. He stared at his cheesy fries like they’d wronged him, when cheesy fries hadn’t done anything wrong since their invention.

****

“Are you okay, dude?” Lance asked.

****

Immediately, Hunk’s smile was back, he took a forkful of fries and shoved them into his mouth.

****

“Yeah, of course,” he said around a mouthful of half chewed cheese byproduct. “I’m just thinking about the movie you picked, like, you know I hate horror dude.”

****

“It was the only one I could get tickets to! I get scared too, we’ll just have to hold hands,” Lance said. It took him a second to realize why Hunk was blushing. They held hands all the time. Or they used to. Lance couldn’t remember exactly when they’d stopped.

****

He reached across the table and squeezed Hunk’s hand a little, just as a demonstration of what was to come.

****

If possible Hunk blushed even more, but he squeezed Lance’s hand back.

****

Damn. Lance really wished this was a date.

****

+

****

“I think the scariest part was when the guy from the other universe just popped out of the ceiling vent,” Lance said.

****

They were in Hunk’s jeep on the way back from the theater. Lance was curled into the passenger seat, turned to face Hunk, who was laughing at him. There was a little popcorn still in Hunk’s hair, from when Lance had upended their bucket to scream midway through the movie. It was distracting.

****

“Really?” Hunk said. “I would have thought it was when that alien dude got speared in half. You nearly jumped into my lap for that one.”

****

Lance hid his blush by ducking his face into his arms.

****

“That was more gory than scary,” Lance said.

****

Hunk nodded in agreement as he pulled the jeep into Lance’s driveway. Neither of them moved aside from unclicking their seatbelts as Hunk turned the ignition off, letting the jeep settle around them.

****

“That was fun, we haven’t hung out with just us in awhile,” Lance said, picking at the hem of his shirt.

****

“Yeah, we should, do this more,” Hunk said.

****

They’d never sounded so awkward in each other’s company. Lance didn’t know what to do. He felt like if he got out of this jeep, right now, he’d miss some opportunity. This was the moment. The one he’d been waiting for. If he didn’t take it one day he’d be Hunk’s best man at his wedding and the godfather of his ridiculously attractive children with some stranger. _Lance_ wanted to have Hunk’s ridiculously attractive children. Lance wanted to pull Hunk’s bandana out of the way and kiss him on the forehead after practice. Lance wanted Hunk to carry him from room to room in their future apartment while feeding him an assortment of baked goods. Lance wanted to fail making Hunk’s favorite food for dinner, but trying anyway, then getting him takeout as compensation because they’d inevitably be overworked twentysomethings who deserved nice things.

****

He wanted to see Hunk every day for the rest of their lives. He was pretty sure that’s what love felt like.

****

Hunk was leaning closer, saying something. But Lance’s thoughts were roaring and he missed it.

****

He turned to look at Hunk, whose face was suddenly closer and flushed.

****

“Sorry, man, I was a million miles away. What was that?” Lance asked.

****

Hunk pulled back. “Nothing. Nevermind.”

****

“What? No, come on, dude, I promise I’m listening this time. I’m all ears.”

****

“No, its okay,” Hunk said. “It wasn’t important.”

****

“Hunk!” Lance said, throwing an arm over Hunk’s shoulders and ruffling his hair. “Don’t make me beg! Bro! Tell me!”

****

Hunk pulled back from the hair tousling to look Lance in the eye. At which point Lance realized he was half in Hunk’s lap and their faces were very close together. Hunk had freckles on his forehead, Lance had never noticed before.

****

“Do you want to date?” Hunk asked. “Me?”

****

“Fuck yeah,” Lance said, going in for a kiss.

****

It was rougher than Lance had been expecting. Lance started it chaste but Hunk wasn’t messing around. He was soft lips and sharp teeth. He hauled Lance further into his lap with a firm hand to his shoulder. He dragged his lips down Lance’s face and jaw to press kisses on his neck.

****

“Wait, wait, wait,” Lance said.

****

Hunk pulled back immediately, his lips were wet and his eyes were wide.

****

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

****

“What? No. I just wanted to tell you, I love you,” Lance said.

****

Hunk continued staring at him uncomprehendingly.

****

“I mean.” Lance’s face was hot. “I’ve had a crush on you for a long time. I thought I was going to have to be your best man and watch someone else marry you and be a sad, lonely bachelor for the rest of my life like in 27 Dresses.”

****

“I don’t think you finished that movie,” Hunk said. “And I like you too.”

****

“It wasn’t my fault you broke up with Shay right?” Lance blurted. He couldn’t hold it in anymore.

****

Hunk reeled back, pushing Lance into the steering wheel. The horn honked and both of them sat in horrified silence for thirty seconds until they realized Lance’s houses lights weren’t turning on. No one was running out to catch them in the act of making out in Hunk’s jeep.

****

Lance got back into the passenger seat, just in case.

****

“Why would you think that?” Hunk asked. He  was holding Lance’s hand, running his thumb over his knuckles over and over.

****

Lance explained the party, what he’d overheard, what he’d assumed.

****

“I broke up with Shay because, well, you and I spent a lot of time together this summer. And whenever Shay asked to hang out I realized all over again that it was our last real summer in this town and I wanted to spend it with you. And that wasn’t fair to her. So I broke it off and she told me she’d always known something like this would happen.”

****

Lance felt a little guilty, still, but he was glad he hadn’t done anything wrong.

****

“I thought, the past few days, I mean,” Hunk’s face scrunched as he tried to find the right words. Lance thought it was pretty cute. “I thought you were dating Keith.”

****

“What?!” Lance yelled. “Keith?”

****

“You were hiding in the bleachers, meeting up after school. You met his family. Then his brother was Shirogane and I was just like, well he shares a gene pool with Lance’s biggest gayest crush, it’s over,” Hunk said, smiling a little ruefully.

****

Lance playfully slapped his shoulder.

****

“First of all Shiro is adopted. Second of all Keith may be an eight and a half, but not only are neither of us into each other that way but you, my man, are a solid ten.”

****

“That made no actual sense, but thanks. I think.”

****

“God, we’re a mess,” Lance said. He couldn’t tell if he wanted to laugh or slap himself in the face.

****

“We fumbled the ball a little, but we got there in the end,” Hunk said, with no hint of regret.

****

“God. Please don’t use football metaphors in this moment. We’re gonna have to tell this story to our grandkids.” Lance bemoaned. Then he shook his head, took a deep breath, and placed his hands on Hunk’s shoulders. “Now, I have ten minutes left until curfew and if you don’t spent nine minutes and forty five seconds of that making out with me in your jeep I am rating this date down one star.”

****

“Wouldn’t want that,” Hunk laughed, but he was already leaning across the center console.

****

+

****

The football game was tied in the second quarter when Keith approached Lance.

****

Lance was strewn across the cheerleader’s bench, his head in Allura’s lap and his feet in Nyma’s. Their halftime show had been cancelled due to the lights and tech guy, Matt Holt, losing their cheer music. Lance was plotting his murder.

****

“How’s your boyfriend doing?” Keith asked. He had his little notebook out and a pencil tucked behind his ear.

****

“Aren’t you watching the game? You’re writing the article for the school paper,” Lance asked.

****

Keith shrugged. “I still don’t actually understand football.”

****

Lance sat up quickly, nearly knocking Allura’s phone out of her hand. She grumbled at him and then went back to texting.

****

“Okay, well, we have possession of the ball, we have four downs, or tries, to gain ten yards closer to the opposing teams endzone,” Lance said, pointing. “If we gain ten yards, we get four more tries for ten more yards. If we don’t, the other team gets possession of the ball.”

****

“So… are we doing okay with the down stuff?” Keith asked.

****

Lance sighed. “Just watch Hunk, Keith. Watch how its done.”

****

Their home team was twenty yards from the endzone. Lance knew this close to halftime Hunk’s team would go for a big, impressive play. He was right.

****

Thirty seconds later, the quarterback lined up and threw the ball nearly the full twenty yards to where Hunk was waiting right on cue. Hunk snatched the ball out of the air, like it was the easiest thing in the world, and skipped into the endzone. The crowd went wild. Keith scribbled something in his notebook. Around him, the other cheerleaders waved their pom poms and sang their school fight song.

****

A year from now it would be just him and Hunk, captains of their teams, Allura and Shay and the other seniors away for college, but they would have each other and they would be just fine.

****

Lance met Hunk’s eyes across the field and blew him a kiss.


End file.
